


Writing Exercises II

by Laura JV (jacquez)



Category: due South
Genre: Challenge Response, F/M, M/M, Slash
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2001-06-12
Updated: 2001-06-12
Packaged: 2018-11-11 03:04:34
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,051
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11139843
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jacquez/pseuds/Laura%20JV
Summary: 10 short-shorts on the subject of fellatio.





	Writing Exercises II

**Author's Note:**

> Note from Speranza, the archivist: this story was once archived at [Due South Archive](http://fanlore.org/wiki/Due_South_Archive). To preserve the archive, I began manually importing its works to the AO3 as an Open Doors-approved project in June 2017. I tried to reach out to all creators about the move and posted announcements, but may not have reached everyone. If you are (or know) this creator, please contact me using the e-mail address on [Due South Archive collection profile](http://archiveofourown.org/collections/duesoutharchive).

Writing Exercises II

## Writing Exercises II

by Laura Jacquez Valentine

Author's Website: http://www.dementia.org/~jacquez/writing/fanfic.html

Disclaimer: 

Author's Notes: I'm afraid I must blame Resonant.

Story Notes: 

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11\. Excess. 

I tried. I mean, it wasn't like I didn't try. He was just the kind of guy, you know, who wouldn't meet you halfway. Or at all. I mean, I was pretty young when I married him and I thought, this is it, this is my life. We'll be happy, we'll have babies... 

Only it didn't work out. I tried everything. I cooked his favorite stuff and I made him coffee in the mornings and I kept the place clean and I didn't run up the bills and I tried so hard in bed, but it didn't work out. 

I think I knew it was over the time I, you know, went down on him and he just...I mean, it's like he wasn't there. He _liked_ it. That was, well, obvious. He just didn't...anyway. It was like I didn't matter. He came, I spit and got up out of bed and went to sleep on the couch. 

He didn't even notice, you know? Two days later he moved out. I wasn't really surprised. Why should this guy be any different from the others, just because he put a ring on my finger? 

I don't get it. It's not like I don't try. 

12\. Old Lovers. 

Steve, I suppose, was the most important. Not the first, but we were together three years and I learned a great deal from him. We got together on my twentieth birthday. Easily. Nothing since has been as easy. 

We went hiking together and then to his place to clean up, and he stepped into the shower with me and that was that. It never crossed my mind to object, which I'm sure he knew. He knew me very well, even then. 

The spray was hot on my shoulders and his hands were hot on my hips and his mouth was hot on my erection. His hair was wet and soft and heavy against my fingers, and I think I loved him in that moment. The simple sweet affection of him, the way he took me in and made me part of him. 

Steve. My Steve. 

I still miss him. 

13\. I Should Be Ashes By Now. 

Of course I threatened to kill Jake. Wouldn't you have? Having everything he was doing flung in your face all the time? 

I _loved_ him. That wasn't the problem, loving him. Loving him was...just the way things were. And no matter how much I knew, I didn't _know_ know. Not until I went to see him at the station and found him in an interrogation room with God Knows Who. 

I still don't know who she was. I only saw her from behind. Jake I saw, though, and you couldn't mistake what she was doing to him. There's only so many things you can do on your knees. 

Of all the slaps in the face, that was the worst. 

You'd think that any love for him would have burned out, but it hasn't. I still love him. I sit here on death row and I wait for the end of my life and I still love him. 

14\. Fear. 

I've never done this before. I mean, I've had it done _to_ me. But I've never been the one on this end of things. Thank God it's Benny because otherwise I don't think I could do it. 

I mean, it's Benny. He's _polite_. He's not going to make fun of me if I mess up. He's not going to treat me any different because I've had a guy's dick in my mouth. That's the thing about him. He's pretty nutty but he's overall a good guy. 

He's my best friend. 

I love him. 

So if I'm going to put anyone's dick in my mouth it'd better be his. 

He's just breathing, real quiet, letting me think it through. Not moving or asking. OK. I can do this. I know I can do this. 

I lean forward and lick the tip a little, and he sucks air in through his teeth. I look up and he's got his eyes closed and his mouth open and his lips are dry. 

Oh yeah. I can do this. 

15\. Stakeout. 

Louis is asleep. We've been out here four hours, so I can't blame him. Me, I'm fantasizing. Nothing else to _do_. The guy we're watching has been asleep since before we got here. And I'm awake, Louis is snoring, and there's nothing else to do. 

Last weekend I was off and I took this girl out. We'd been out before, had some drinks, some fun. She's a nurse and she works all kinds of shifts, which makes things hard. Wish I could see more of her, but that's the way it is. 

So last weekend we ended up parked outside her building and all of a sudden she turns around and slides into the back seat. "C'mon, Jack," she goes. "I haven't been in the backseat of a car with a man since I was sixteen." 

She would have been a sweet sixteen, I bet. It was like something out of the past, it really was--her going down on me in the backseat of my car, laughing and shy and both of us afraid of getting caught. 

I spent the night at her place. She sleeps quieter than my partner here. 

It's another two weeks before our schedules are good for another date. This time I think it's my turn to return the favor, know what I mean? 

Jeezus, Louis snores loud. 

16\. A High-Level Meeting with a Man from Scandinavia. 

I didn't intend for it to happen. It's not as if I had some mad desire to break in my new office by having sex in it, the way some people break in a mattress. There was something, though, about Fraser being downstairs in his office and Turnbull being downstairs guarding the desk and Sven being...Sven. 

It was one of those times when you can just say "to hell with it!" and go with what you're feeling. There aren't many times like that anymore, and I miss them. So I said it and then I did it: sat Sven down in my desk chair and unbuttoned and unzipped his pants and wrapped my lips around his cockhead and just went to work. 

God, he tasted fantastic. I could smell his cologne and musk and sweat and soap, and he tasted clean and slightly salty. I slipped my hand into my own pants and touched myself, getting off on sucking him even more than on the feel of my fingers. I opened my throat and slid him as deep as I could and swallowed around him, and he came with a shout I'm sure Fraser heard. 

I didn't care. 

It was one of those times. 

17\. Humans II. 

Benton, maybe you can explain this whole thing. I've accepted the genitals in the mouths thing, I really have. I mean, I've had my nose in a few human crotches, and I admit that I licked Maggie's genitals once or twice. 

OK, more than that. That's not the point. 

It's this whole thing where a male puts another male's genitals in his mouth. Maybe that's the real problem, because I just don't get it. I mean, there's no fun in that. 

Did I ever tell you about my cousin? I had this cousin who wouldn't mate with females. He only wanted to mate with males. It's not like there's anything bad about that, except then there are no puppies. And also, it's not the same. I mean, girls are...girls. 

I don't get it, I guess. You and Turnbull keep doing it to each other, and you seem to like it, but it's not my scene. 

Can I have that hamburger? Mmm, hamburger. Hamburger, _that_ I get. 

18\. Mounties and the Men Who Love Them. 

All I can think is, why the hell didn't I do this sooner? Did I have some kind of hangup preventing me from going "hey Frase, you and me, what do you say?" 

No, except for I have this dumb thing about not corrupting people. Only of course Fraser only pretends not to already be corrupted, which it took me a few months to figure out. After that, ha! Look out, sanctity of the uniform. 

So for awhile now I have been inventing new ways to get Fraser on his knees, which I figure is fair because he seems to be inventing new ways to drive me insane. 

Like this way, which involves long slow licks up my dick with his tongue, like he's thinking about the gross national product of Panama or something. Only I know he knows how hot he's making me. He's doing it on purpose, like he'd be all _surprised_ if someone suggested to him that he was hell in the sack when he knows damn well he is. 

Fuck this. 

I grab his head and shove myself into his mouth, and he makes a shocked little noise and slides one hand up to play with my nipples. Yeah. Oh yeah. Jeezus, Fraser, we shoulda done this sooner. Way sooner. Months sooner. I can't ever get enough of this. 

Oh--My--God--! 

19\. Nights in Red Serge. 

It's a matter of pride: can we swallow it all without getting any on the uniform? I'm ahead in this game, seven to four. Ben keeps spilling. Spilled earlier tonight, actually, which means he has to do all the drycleaning pickup for the next week. I'm playing for time off of garbage detail, myself. 

He's shaking and I press back hard on his hips with my palms, holding him still. He moans and shudders and tries to twist away, but can't get away. His fists slam into the wall next to his thighs and his knees buckle and he's coming, coming hard. I wrap my arms around him and bury my nose in his pubic hair and swallow, trying to keep the seal. 

He whimpers and his cock softens in my mouth, and I let go with a final lick. 

I've won again. Drycleaning _and_ garbage detail for the next week are now the responsibility of Constable Benton Fraser, and I've got another mark next to my name on the baseboard of his office. 

Right now I don't think he cares. 

20\. Friggin' in the Rigging. 

I've always liked tough women. Strong broads who know what they like and how they like it. I don't like weak men and I don't like weak women any better. 

Sergeant Sam Thorn may be crazy but she's tough as nails and twice as strong and she built a damn fine ship. 

And on any damn fine ship you have a damn fine crow's nest. So that's where we were, up there, looking out at the lake. We did a good day's work that day, and Fraser was down on deck getting all the baby Mounties to sing, which they did with gusto. 

"I like a man who knows how to work," she said, and smiled at me. She's got a smile like a wolf. "Who knows the water, too. Even if he is American." 

I smiled back. "I like a woman who speaks her mind," I said. 

"Yeah?" 

"Yeah." 

And she had one strong hand on the back of my neck and the other down my pants and she was grinning against my mouth. Yeah, yeah, yeah. Long time since the getting was this good. I'm getting old, I got fewer opportunities now. 

I'm a cop but I'm a gentleman, too. I got into her uniform and got her off first and second and third, hand and then mouth, and she made this great snarling sound every time. And then she kissed the taste of herself from me and went down herself. Returned the favor. 

And damn if Kowalski didn't start teaching the Mounties "Friggin' in the Rigging" just about then. Fuck all else to do my ass! 

(Lyrics to "Friggin' in the Rigging" available at http://www.dementia.org/~jacquez/writing/dsfic/exercises-lyrics.html) 

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End


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